


See Me (Love Me) As I Am

by Living_Free



Series: Slip and Slide [33]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batfamily, Bruce 'protecting' Tim, Bruce whooping Kon, Crack, Damian defending his brothers, Dick is the Shadow Creature of Love, Dick putting his foot down all over Bruce, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Kon wooing Tim, Tim being grounded, Timmy's fashion blog, batbros, dick and jason comforting each other, discussions about poverty, discussions about racism, society sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-04-12
Packaged: 2020-01-12 01:11:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18435929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Living_Free/pseuds/Living_Free
Summary: Jason has a moment with Dick.Dick lets himself be comforted in return.Bruce learns a thing or two,and Tim looks spectacular in blue.





	See Me (Love Me) As I Am

Jason Todd had a well established reputation as a sneaky, sneaky, boi.

Not nearly so sneaky as to escape Dick Grayson's loving gaze, though.

"Why're you skulking about the house, Little Wing?" Dick's musical voice cooed from the shadows.

Jason jumped in surprise before settling down once he felt Dick's chin come to rest on his shoulder, resonating with Concern and Unconditional Love. "Dickface," Jason grunted in greeting. Jason felt Dick humming, and registered the feeling of his hands wrapping around his arm.

"Why're you sad, Little Wing?" Dick asked astutely.

"M'not sad," Jason grumbled, annoyed at being so transparently obvious.

Dick, however, was not convinced. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he said. "I just want to help you feel the best you can be."

Dick, Jason surmised, was a cheesy motivational facebook post brought to life. Instead of voicing his thought, Jason was content to allow Dick to hum circus tunes and card his fingers through Jason's hair like a maternal gibbon. Some time later, Jason sighed.

"It's just...Bruce," he admitted. "He wants to hold this gala to 'welcome me back' into Gotham society from, y'know, my supposed death. Really, it'll be to gather information from the corrupt busniessmen in attendance. I told him to shove it, he said I was thoughtless, I called him a opportunistic opposum, and here we are."

Dick's hold around Jason's waist tightened, and Jason found himself being steered into the kitchen, where there was soothing tea waiting to be made and slurped. Dick busied himself with the tea, and Jason continued to voice his greivances.

"I hate those galas, always have," Jason seethed. "It's different for us, and Bruce doesn't get it. I remember all of those times that those upper class twits stared at me like I was going to pick their pockets. And their faces when you spoke - it's like your real accent amused them. We were like show animals to them.

"And- and Damian! He's eleven years old, and he's heard them whispering about his skin colour! They say that he has 'exotic parentage'. He's a kid, a little kid, and they used the word exotic! I- I just-"

Jason observed Dick's knuckles around his teacup go white with rage. "I know, I heard," Dick said shortly. "It's why I encourage Damian to dress in his traditional thawb, and why I set up his weekly phonecalls with his mom and grandfather. I want Damian to be proud of who he is, and to know that those small minded people don't matter.

"And Terry," Dick continued, his forehead creasing with worry. "The adoption agency said the he was mixed race. Whoever gave him up said that his mother was of East Asian descent, and his father was a native Gothamite. I don't want my baby to feel second best, or that he has to be a certain way to be loved-"

This time, it was Jason who reached across the table and took Dick's hand, and brushed his thumb over Dick's tense knuckles. They sat like that in silence, stressed and upset for their children, their brothers, who were so unlike the norm.

"We love them," Jason said. "We love them, and that'll make up for all the shit that they'll face. It has to. They'll know that we're in their corner, no matter what."

Dick scooted his chair over to lean into Jason and rest his head in the crook of Jason's neck. "Thanks, Little Wing. You always know the right thing to say."

"Except to Bruce, apparently," Jason snickered.

"I'll talk to him," Dick sniffed.

Just then, Brucee walked in. "Speak of the devil," Jason huffed.

"Jason Peter, did you just call your father the devil?" Bruce seethed.

"Yes I did, Bruce Matilda, its a common colloquialism," Jason replied.

"Bruce, stop it, we need to talk to you," Dick said sternly, pulling Bruce down to sit beside Him and Jason. "Bruce, I want you to know that Jason and I don't feel comfortable with you using him as an excuse to throw an intelligence gathering ball."

Bruce stared. "But you've never had an issue with it before. What has brought this on?"

"The people, Bruce!" Jason spat. "They all think that they're better than us because they, what, have some brilliant pedigree? That's bullshit! Do you know the kinds of things they say about me in that kind of setting? About Dick? I'm not about to stand for that kind of thing!"

"But I'd thought that you were glad to use the data gathered to bring them down afterwards," Bruce said, genuinely confused.

"Believe me, we are," Jason said, "but it still feels like shit. Dick and I are adults, we can handle it. But Damian and Terry? They're kids, Bruce, and they shouldn't have to listen to that kind of thing. Their' lives are difficult enough as it is. How's Damian going to feel when he has to defend a city and the citizens that don't respect him, just because of where he was born?"

Bruce frowned. "I didn't realize," he muttered. Then, "I will do somethign about this, just you wait and watch." Bruce made to get up and arrange a clever press release and set up an equal opportunities center, but stopped when he felt Dick hold his hand.

"Bruce, you can't solve everything," he said softly.

"I am your father," Bruce said. "It's my job to eviscerate those who harm you."

Dick laughed. "You can't fix a systemic problem, Bruce."

"Watch me."

Jason pulled Bruce to sit back down. "Hey old man."

"Yes?"

Jason grinned and pressed the tiniest of kisses to Bruce's cheek. "Thanks."

Bruce looked pleasantly surprised, and beamed before mellowing. "I'm sorry that I misunderstood you, Jason," he said. "I should have known better. Done better. If you're not comfortable with being the center of the gala, I won't ask it of you. I'll ask Tim to arrange a different theme."

"But we can still gather intelligence and bring down the corrupt elements of Gotham, right?" Jason asked, blinking doe eyes at Bruce.

Bruce simpered, and looked at his twoo precious sons. "Of course, boys. I wouldn't have it any other way."

***

The gala - now a charity ball - was a smash hit. Tim had arranged the proceeds to go to the rebuilding of Crime Alley, and to fund the local LGBTQ shelter that had been in danger of not making rent.

Bruce was so proud of his son.

Less proud, though, when he spotted Tim swanning into the ballroom in his latest ensemble. He was wearing a white Renaissance period men's shirt with a ruffled design at the sleeve and collar. Even thoght he loose shirt was belted with an ornamental red sash (filched from Damian, no doubt), the shirt stopped short, just above the swell of Tim's tiny tushy, which was clad in the tightest black leggings known to man, just on the right side of decent. The looks was finished by a pair of black boots.

Clearly, Tim was taking far too much happiness from this. In the distance, Bruce spotted Kon-El disguised in a server's outfit. Clearly, this was a prince and serving boy cosplay. Well, they hadn't counted on the King to break up their little fun, Bruce thought vindictively, striding over, even as Tim pretended to slip and be caught in Kon's strong, swole arms, his tiny body pressed flush against Kon's warm front.

Several ladies sighed dreamily, clearly duped by clearly charade.

Bruce seethed, and proceed to be a massive party pooper.

Watching all this from the top of the stairs were Dick and Jason, the former of whom was cradling Terry to his chest. "Oh no, poor Timmy got found out," Dick observed.

"Whoop, there goes Bruce on the warpath," Jason added, watching happily. "He's identified Kon as an imposter...oh, Alfred's escorting him out now." Jason chortled. "There goes Tim's Renaissance fantasy."

"It can't be Jason Todd!" A voice suddenly boomed. Jason looked around to see a large man trundling forward. "How are you, m'boy? Getting your feet wet again? Been a while since you've attended one of Bruce's shindigs, eh?"

"Ah, Mr. Grosse." Jason stopped himself from flinching. He did not have fond memories of this man. "It has been a while. How do you do?"

"Good to see you boys acclimating so well to the lifestyle, it can't be eeasy when you've those early years influence-"

Mr. Grosse was spared from putting his foot any further into his mouth when Damian stormed past, takng care to trample over his toes. "Move, peasant!" He cried, as he swanned over to Dick in his new traditional robes sent by Talia. "Grayson, would you help me with my necklace?" He said, holding out an enormous emerald. He turned and looked at Grosse, who was staring angrily at Damian.

"You little-"

"What are you staring at, you oblong mongoose? Have you not seen gemstones before? And how dare you address me directly! I am the Prince of my grandfather's lands, Lord of House Al Ghul!"

Jason stared, thoroughly overjoyed at the verbal beatdown Grosse was reciving from a pre-pubescent. Damian continued in his diatribe.

"Even now, you stare gormlessly at me! Begone, man, I don't know who let you in to this gala. Honestly, father should have a more discerning eye-"

Ultimately, Grosse's teenage daughter came to rescue her father, telling him that his fourth wife was calling for him. She turned to Dick and Jason with a grimace. "Sorry about him, he's like, low-key awful and a closet xenophobe. But you were great," she said, smiling at Damian, who preened. "I saw you coming for him like a little thunderstorm and thought to intervene, but then I thought, nah."

"You are most wise, lady," Damian said. "Allow me to escort you to the dance floor, where we may pay homage to the graceful eels with our smooth dance moves."

The girl giggled, but allowed Damian to take her hand. "You're cute."

"Thank you, and well noted. Grayson tells me this repeatedly."

Dick and Jason watched Damian lead the girl away, and smiled. "Y'know what, Dickie, I think I might have spoken too soon. Some of these people are alright."

"I'm so glad that you can see the good in people of all backgrounds Jaybird!" Dick sang, while Terry waved his tiny arms around in a celebratory dance. Jason snorted and smacked Dick gently on the shoulder, and gave Terry a gentle poke that had the baby giggling happily, following his father's example.

Jason felt a sense of peace descend over him, even though he was in the most agitating setting possible. It was nice knowing that his family would always be with him, no matter what. "I don't say this often enough," Jason said, "but I fucking appreciate you, Dick."

Dick cooed. "I love you too, Jaybird!"

"A wu 'oo," Terry reitereated. Jason laughed and scooped Terry up.

"I love you best, my little man," Jason said, rubbing noses with his nephew.

The idyllic moment was broken by Dick's announcement of, "Oh, look, Kon is seranading Tim from the balcony!"

Sure enough, a crowd had gathered in the balcony, where Kon was soulfully singing to his lover, and Tim was swooning against a pillar. Several ladies were once again tittering, and Bruce was readying his catapult.

"Let's go watch," Jason said. "I'm Team Tim."

"We're all Team Tim!" Dick beamed. "C'mon, let's go and hold Bruce back."

Jason followed Dick with a spring in his step. After all, he wouldn't begrudge his brothers the happiness that he had for himself, not even for a seething and overprotective Bruce.

"Hey, Bruce, think fast!"

Bruce looked around, but as quick enough to preepmt the bear hug that trapped him in Jason's arms. Meanwhile, Dick had found a sturdy rope and gave it to Tim, so that he could join his most noble and muscular and pulsating and thick lover on the lawn, where they could make their escape to have sweet, sweet sex all night long.

"They're going to escape!" Bruce spat.

"Let 'em," Jason said. "Tim deserves to experience happiness, even in it's most primal form."

Bruce whined. "But Tim is small and delicate and I must protect him!"

"Tim's pain tolerance and butt stretch regimen are legendary. He can take care of himself."

"Butt stretch?" Bruce asked, confused.

Jason snorted. "God, you're so straight. Of course you need to stretch, Bruce. Imagine eating a cucumber."

"Uh huh."

"But with your asshole."

"What!"

"Yeah," Jason said, "you can't do it without preparation, and Tim has a daily anal health regimen."

Bruce sighed wanly. "At least you're a good boy," he said.

Jason tightened his arms around Bruce. "Yeah. You're not so bad either, old man."

***

The next morning, Tim was grounded as he tried to sneak back into his room.

"But we didn't even do anything!" Tim protested. "Kon and I went back to the farm, where we sat underneath the peach tree and ate the fruit and watched the stars adoring the night sky, even as the sticky juices from the peaches coated out fingers and lips, and travelled down to our throats-"

"Timmy."

"Yeah?"

"Quit while you're ahead," Dick advised, as Bruce started to resemble a lemon.

After that, Tim accepted his grounding with grace and slunk back upstairs. Bruce grunted and picked up the morning paper, which by unspoken rule was his to peruse before anyone else. Chatter continued to flow around him, as Bruce sank into the picture staring up at him.

Some enterprising reporter had captured an image of Jason bear-hugging Bruce from the previous night, just a boy and his dad engaging in some filial shenanigans. The headline read, "A Gala Welcome Back To Jason Todd-Wayne". Bruce swallowed down a lump in his throat, and carefully perused the rest of the article, which was littered with several more pictures.

There was one of Damian, he looked nice and regal. There was Dick with Terry and Wallace, they looked happy and sweet, and-

Bruce peered at the by-line. "Drake-Wayne Finds Love At Gala, Is Wooed By Veritable Hunk". Quickly, Bruce looked at the author's name.

Jim Payne.

Timothy's pen name. Bruce scowled as the article went on to praise the 'young lovers who had managed to unite inspite of the odious class differences and the bourgeosis trying to keep them apart' and prattle on about 'the swole, welcoming arms of the young server, who had so effectively carried the Wayne son off into the night'.

Tim was in so much trouble.

But then again, Bruce thought, looking at the main picture of Jason hugging him, perhaps a little leniency was called for.

***

"Two weeks of no contact with Kon-El, and that's all I'm willing to offer."

Tim looked balefully at Bruce. "What if I throw in colour copies of the hug photos?" He asked slyly. "After all, when is Jason going to be in such a happy mood again as to hug you?"

Bruce snorted in a way that he hoped conveyed an arrogance that he did not feel. "Jason," he called. He looked Tim in the eye, daring his son to call his bluff.

"Yeah?" Jason asked, coming forward to stand beside Bruce.

"Son," Bruce said, "Tim here is of the opinion that you don't want to hug me. Would you like to prove him wrong, for the amount of an extra two days of grounding for Tim?"

Tim's jaw dropped in horror. "Bruce!"

Jason beamed. "Why Bruce, you needn't ask," he said genially, embracing his father, "after all, sons and fathers have such a special bond."  
Tim wailed at the betrayal and flung himself onto his bed, uncaring that his little skirt rode up to expose the glittery garter adorning his upper right thigh.

Bruce's eyes popped. "Timothy Wayne," he growled, "is that a Superboy themed garter? I do not recall you having that before last night."

Tim squeaked and averted his eyes. "N-no, you must be mistaken, Bruce~"

Bruce glared.

"Kon made it for me!" Tim wept. "As a symbol of his love! He painstakingly stitched the logo on by himself!"

"Oh, let him keep it," Jason snorted. "It's kinda cute."

"Well, alright," Bruce conceded. "I trust your judgement, son."

"This is bullying!" Tim cried, flailing and thumping his fists on his pillow. "One day, my Kon will come and whisk me away to a land of soft touches and cherry blossoms, and I will wear this garter and nothing else!"

"He'll have to get past the kryptonite gates first," Bruce said smugly. "Son," he said, turning to Jason, "would you like to help me program the kryptonite lasers?"

Jason beamed. "Why Bruce, nothing would make me happier," he said, even as Tim shreiked thinly. Jason looped his arm through Bruce's.

"Lead on, old man, lead on."

***

TIMMY'S FASHION BLOG!

[Renaissance Men's shirt](https://www.amazon.com/GRACEART-Mens-Medieval-Nordic-Shirts/dp/B07BBPDZKQ/ref=sr_1_56_sspa?crid=NV06HTPH8IH0&keywords=renaissance%2Bcostume%2Bmen&qid=1554891582&s=gateway&sprefix=renai%2Caps%2C376&sr=8-56-spons&th=1&psc=1)

[Miniskirt](https://www.amazon.com/Womens-Versatile-Stretchy-Flared-Skater/dp/B01N0VNXPL/ref=sr_1_14?keywords=mini%2Bskirt&qid=1555001370&s=apparel&sr=1-14&th=1)

[Superboy garter](https://www.amazon.com/Customizable-handmade-Superman-organza-keepsake/dp/B079JS2PS3?ref=hdn_dp_car_mba_2)

***  
***


End file.
